


Fractured

by jaekayelle



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 00:53:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17694476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaekayelle/pseuds/jaekayelle
Summary: Sheppard undergoes a journey of discovery in a surprising arena.





	Fractured

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: R for language; gen, angst  
> This is possibly McKay/Sheppard if you squint sideways, or Sheppard/Atlantis  
> Disclaimer: MGM owns the characters. No copyright infringement intended. No profits made from this work of fiction.  
> Originally posted to sga_flashfic February 24, 2007
> 
> Thanks go to sffan for coming to the rescue with a nearly last minute beta. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Noise. Alarms. Klaxons.

weak cries

It burned his skin and clawed at the inside of his skull. 

someone's moaning someone's hurt help them

Chaos. 

Mental confusion.

Shouts. Someone shouting…Rodney? Ronon. Anger. Pain. Hurtshurtshurts

"stop"

His throat was too dry. Couldn't. 

STOP

"Stop. Hurts."

"John?" 

Teyla. 

TeylaRodneyRonon TeylaRodneyRonon teylarodneyronon teyl odny ro

Cool darkness. Astonishing relief.

#

"— eppard might have been drugged." Carson. Thank God. He had a chance now.

"No, really?" Rodney's sarcasm cut through the woolly blanket of oblivion, bringing the pain back with it. John struck out with a blind hand, the backs of his knuckles thwapping feebly against solid flesh.

"Hey! Oh. Sheppard, you're awake. Are you awake? Open your eyes so I know for sure."

"Rodney," Teyla said gently. John was embarrassingly grateful for her soothing tone. He reached towards it, even more grateful when she took his hand in hers; at the same time finding what he thought might be Rodney's sleeve and clinging to it with his other hand, grounding himself enough to open his eyes.

"There you are, lad." John could see Carson now, blue eyes crinkling in the corners forcing concern to take a backseat. It was temporary, John was sure, if he knew Carson. "How do you feel?"

Turning his head carefully from Teyla's calmness on his left to Rodney's huge eyes on his right, John managed, "Stu-stupid question, Carson." He swallowed, his throat raw and scratchy like it was lined with chopped up nails.

Teyla turned his palm over so that it lay warmly against her own. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ronon not quite leaning against the wall at the head of the bed. It was more like he was almost hovering, a very unusual thing for Ronon to do. Then it was possible Rodney bit back a whimper of his own, but John couldn't make himself look to be certain.

"Hurts. Everything hurts." It took a gargantuan effort to speak clearly. It ripped him apart to think. But he needed to remain lucid. Terror lurked at the edge of consciousness. He hadn't even acknowledged an emotion like that since he was ten and he had watched his mother bleed to death. If he went under again he might not resurface. 

"I'll give you something for the pain, Colonel."

"NO!" He flailed against the fear. " – die if I sleep! Die!"

He didn't know how he knew that.

"Easy, John." It was Teyla again. Steady, fiercely dependable Teyla. Ronon's meaty hand pressed comfort hard on his shoulder, offering welcome, distracting pain. John turned to Rodney. Pale features, eyes round and reflecting John's frightened, jumbled panic right back at him. Somehow that meant more than anything the others had to give. Rodney was afraid for him. It made no sense to John that such knowledge soothed him, but there it was.

Then:

"Ahhh!"

An inferno with the force of a sun blazed through him. His skin and clothes were soaked instantly. Air seared his lungs. He gasped, throwing himself from side to side. 

Why was this happ--?

#

prison

must escape

MUST ESCAPE

#

An oxygen mask over his nose and mouth was helping him breathe. Pure, sweet air.

This was incomprehensible. He had fought for his life before but this -- this was a thousand times harder. It felt like his body was fighting against him. It felt like it was trying to get out of itself. 

No sense. No sense at all.

The more he rebelled the more it resisted him, and soon his strength was nearly gone. He had to stay awake but he was so tired – The struggle was too much --

The last thing he saw before sliding helplessly into oblivion was his team around him; worry writing chasms on their souls. Worry for him.

#

searching

searching

searching

#

Atlantis?

not I

What then?

silence

Atlantis?

a stranger

John reached out warily, feeling timid and ineffectual. After his wrenching struggle to stay away from this…whereverwhatever, he found it was not nearly as bad as he had expected. The result was both puzzling and infuriating. To scare him that badly when he knew he would die if he slept, and then to find the experience almost soothing – Wait.

Am I dead?

Atlantis?

no

I would mourn if you were

Despite the circumstances and the underlying fear that would not go away, John was touched by the love the city felt for him. It was definitely mutual.

Remembering the "stranger" he did a little searching of his own. 

Who's there?

Anyone?

Aggression welled up overshadowing John's trepidation. The thing was he wasn't feeling particularly aggressive right now.

Is someone there?

Ksa

Huh?

I am Ksa

Saw?

It suffices

Are you from PRX-567?

silence

The planet we just visited.

Ksa exists

Well, obviously since I'm talking to you here.

Ksa attacks Ksa must escape Ksa attacks

Now hang on!

Ksa lives

Did you attack me? And where the hell are you anyway?

Ksa

Yeah. That's getting real old by now. You're Ksa and I’m John. I'd say pleased to meet you, but I'm not feeling too neighbourly right now.

silence

Hey, you still here?

Ksa conquers

Not me, you sure as fucking hell don't! He wished he had his P-90. He would blast this Ksa bastard into smithereens. 

A wave of blistering cold washed over him leaving him shivering and frozen to his core, and yet he sweated as though feverish. His skin popped and itched. His skull was too tight. His bones ached with a depth that felt like they might snap any second from the weight of Ksa's might. He knew it was Ksa who was doing this to him. John wanted to know who or what Ksa was and how it was possible for him or her to exist inside his body, and do this to him. 

My body! Mine! Mine.

no more 

Yes! My. Body. Get. The. Fuck. Out.

More cold roared through his veins, his cells. It felt different this time.

no

My body. My life. Go.

no more

no more

Ksa's hold on him was weakening.

no

Another level of oblivion reared up, overpowering him. He fought with every last iota of waning strength. 

He lost.

#

Swimming. Swimming was good. He always liked the water. His dad said he was part fish because he spent his summers at the pool, lake or in one of the oceans holding his breath for a long time.

But John wasn't really a fish and he did need to breathe. 

He broke the surface; coughing painfully as his lungs strained for the air he had deprived them.

"Easy, Colonel!"

"Car –" more coughing, "Carson?" What the hell?

His eyes were gummy but he squinted at the crowd of familiar faces around him.

"Dead?"

Some of them chuckled but they all still looked worried. 

"No, lad. You're not dead."

John had always been indifferent to Carson's rolling burr, but now he found the accent quite comforting, especially while uttering that last statement.

"Wh—'appened?"

Another coughing fit shook him, though not as badly as the first. Teyla handed him a glass of water with a straw. He always hated drinking from a straw but when he hesitated she regarded him sternly, so he accepted it between his lips and sucked in the blessedly tepid water. As he drank he looked around. Ronon was still not-quite hovering. Elizabeth was here now, fighting off emotions John wasn't sure he wanted to witness. He was feeling too vulnerable right this moment. The lines around Carson's eyes were not as pronounced but he still seemed concerned. And Rodney had a grip on the bed rail that just might dent the metal. When John looked directly at him, his mouth tightened and he audibly breathed in through his nose. Otherwise he was quiet, and that was unusual for Rodney and that rattled John more than he cared to say.

"It was a virus," Carson began his explanation. "I suspected as much though, admittedly, not at first. I thought you had been drugged but the toxicology came up negative on all counts. When you began displaying symptoms vaguely similar to the Chikungunya virus or even dengue or some form of yellow fever that's what put me onto it."

"Carson's quackery couldn't explain it," Rodney spoke up at last.

"Rodney!" Carson sounded rightfully affronted, but John couldn't stop a wavering grin from showing. 

Continuing as if he had not been interrupted Rodney said, "It was Atlantis that saved you."

"Huh?"

"Yes! Okay, it's just my theory – and no one seems to agree with me, but how else do you explain the medical database suddenly spewing out information on the Keelsha virus? It just turned up, just like that."

Carson drew in a steadying breath. "I was searching for information, Rodney. The parameters I gave it were –"

"Were not even close! It was Atlantis." He smiled smugly and bounced a little.

"Keelsha?" Ksa. Wow.

"Yes! Apparently it's the Pegasus version of the Ebola, only without the bleeding from the eyes and certain death. Okay, so it's more like some other deadly, potentially irreversible disease that actually does reverse itself within seventy-two hours. It acted like a hitchhiker, catching a ride in your system. You see," While Carson glowered at him Rodney was gearing up for a lengthy explanation. John stopped him with a single forefinger tapping the blankets. He had a headache behind his eyes reaching epic proportions. Soon it would manifest as a Monty Python animation and become apparent to everyone. "Oh. But you must be tired."

Or Rodney would figure it out without the gigantic foot stomping on his head. He must really look bad for Dr. Oblivious to notice. "Kinda."

"You were out for almost three days, Sheppard." Ronon spoke for the first time, giving him information he needed. "Thought we were going to lose you." 

"Well," John's voice was completely untrustworthy but he gave it a shot anyway, "Thanks for worrying."

"Wasn't too worried." Ronon's mouth turned up in a near smile. He gripped John's shoulder very gently and left. 

Teyla laid her cool fingertips on John's forehead. He closed his eyes under her touch. 

"Swallow these if you can, Colonel. They'll help your headache." 

John took the pills from Carson and managed to chase them down with the water, minus the straw.

"You need to get some more sleep, Colonel."

"Wasn't I just asleep for three days?" 

"Aye. That was a healing sleep. Now you need more normal rest."

John wasn't certain he understood that but he was feeling surprisingly tired. After Carson went to his office John attempted to lift an eyebrow at Rodney who jutted out his chin and said, "Yes. Well, I'll just – go." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. 

Waiting until Rodney got most of the way to the door John said, "Come back later."

"I'll bring the chess set."

"Do that."

After Rodney was gone, John settled back against the pillow. 

He'd had an argument in his mind with a virus – a sentient virus. He'd battled it for his life. Just when he thought Pegasus couldn't get any weirder it did.

Too bad he hadn't known all you had to do was talk to germs to convince them to leave. All right, so it hadn't been that simple, but if he could have had a chat back when he had that bout with the mumps the day before his date with Dorraine Brandon his life might have turned out differently. 

Then again, having a city practically worship him, having aliens like Teyla and Ronon and snarky scientists like Rodney McKay for friends, outdid two kids and a picket fence any day of the week.

 

# end


End file.
